Hair
by HungLikeARainbro
Summary: Tiny drabble whilst I work on my main fic. I feel bad that I chopped off Kyle's perfect hair for the sake of character development in my other fic so here is some hair fun. Plot (kind of): Cartman loves Kyle's hair but Kyle refuses to take off his hat. Showers are the answer. Only slightly beta'd so probably lots of mistakes. I apologise.


Very few people got to see Kyle Broflovski without his trademark green ushanka and there was a reason for that. Stan Marsh thought maybe he had a conjoined foetus twin like the school nurse, and before Stan pushed him into the parade for Nurse Gollum, Kyle had to remind him of all the baths they took together as kindergartners where he quite obviously didn't have one. Eric Cartman had long thought that it was where he kept his 'Jew gold', until Kyle reluctantly proved otherwise. Kenny McCormick was smarter than both of them and knew that it was far simpler than that.

Kyle hated his hair.

Over his formative years he hovered between dislike and outright loathing, but whenever he experienced an "I learned something today" moment towards his hair it never lasted. His disaffection always returned and he would tug his hat back on and remove it for no one and no thing.

The incessant teasing about his 'Jewfro' from his so-called friend Cartman absolutely did not help. Ironically, years later, Cartman was the one suffering the most from Kyle's self-consciousness.

They had finally gotten to a point where they realised that perhaps their animosity towards one another was misdirected, and it was only after drinking a few stolen beers at Kenny's home and making out behind his trailer that they realised how far and fast they'd been charging in that wrong direction.

But even now, several weeks into whatever they were doing, Kyle hadn't taken off his hat. And God help Cartman if he even tried to touch it. He attempted a few times to sneakily knock it away in the throes of passion but Kyle wasn't buying it, and Cartman would rather put up with that stupid green hat bobbing up and down above his dick than have no blow job at all.

But it was frustrating. He had access to every inch of Kyle (and he really liked all the inches he got, he wasn't completely ungrateful) except the forehead and above.

He tried hiding the hat, then stealing it, then destroying it. But Kyle had a seemingly never-ending supply of replacements. Cartman manipulated enough people that he got ushankas banned from the town. So Kyle started wearing Stan's beanie which was just weird and a total turn-off and Cartman still shuddered at the memory. Banning all hats was too difficult in a cold mountain town and he had to give in.

If Cartman was the kind of person to learn lessons (he wasn't) he might have realised that it was poetic justice for teasing Kyle about his curls. "It wasn't my fault; I was young and in love and didn't understand my feeeeeeliiiiiings," he would probably whine if confronted. Possibly true, but he was finally getting his just desserts.

Cartman didn't like punishment. Especially when it was justified.

He was going to get hold of that Jewfro, and Kyle was going to damn well love every second of it.

* * *

The only time, as spoken of before, that Kyle took his ushanka off was to bathe or shower. Wearing the same few hats, even with washing, meant his hair could get pretty gross at the end of the day.

Cartman didn't care and set up his spy camera in the Broflovski bathroom. He didn't care what Kyle's hair stank of because the important thing was that it would smell of Kyle. Romantic or pathetic? He was straddling both interpretations right now.

He wandered back into Kyle's room with his laptop and tucked himself into his sleeping bag for their 'sleepover'. Kyle's mother was so innocent. It would be cute if she wasn't such a bitch.

A few moments later and Kyle was on the screen in front of him, stripping off slowly. Yeah yeah, hot and all, but Cartman had seen that before.

The ushanka hit the floor and Cartman groaned at the copper cascade that now framed Kyle's gorgeous face. He had intended just to watch but…

Change of plan. Time for action.

Kyle screamed at the shadow behind the curtain, but not from fright. He'd have to be a special kind of idiot not to work out who would be sneaking in on him in the shower. "Get out, Cartman!"

But he was already naked and stepping into the tub. Kyle did what no normal person would do in that situation and instinctively covered his _head_ with his hands. "I mean it, get out."

"I just thought it would be romantic to wash together."

"Romantic nothing. I don't know what you're up to Cartman – no that's a lie; I know exactly what you're up to." His face flushed pink as Cartman pressed into him. "If my parents hear us both in here…"

"Relax. We're not going to fuck."

"Oh," said Kyle, annoyed with himself for sounding disappointed.

Cartman smirked and reached for a shampoo bottle. "Sit down. I'm going to wash your hair."

Kyle protested that there was no room and the bathtub groaned in agreement as Cartman shifted their bodies around into something that was as close to comfortable as they were going to get. Kyle sat at the bottom of the tub with his limbs tucked up; Cartman was behind almost giggling with excitement that he was actually going to touch Kyle's infamous Jewfro. Kyle looked back with a wicked smirk. "Good thing you're such a shortass, Cartman. We'd never have fit."

"Ay! I'm due a growth spurt any day now."

Kyle didn't doubt that. Cartman was predicted to be at least six foot by college. For now though, Kyle loved showing off how he towered over Cartman.

"Anyway," Cartman continued with an irritated sniff, "Five inches of your height is dedicated to your Jewfro."

"Just wash it and get out, Cartman. You hate it so much, why are you so desperate to see it all the time?"

"I don't hate your hair."

Kyle shivered as the cold shampoo trickled through the thick tresses of hair and onto his skin.

Cartman murmured into Kyle's ear, "I _love_ it."

Kyle shivered again and closed his eyes at the sensation of Cartman's thick fingers combing through his curls, manoeuvring the soap behind his ears and into his nape. Kyle had only been to a salon once in his life, back when he explored metrosexuality. The girl that washed his hair had unpleasant pointed nails and roughly attacked his scalp.

This was totally different. It was almost ethereal the way Cartman soothed his calloused fingers in circles across his skin and moved with the natural whorl of his hair. Kyle jolted slightly when he felt himself almost falling asleep. Cartman chuckled against his back. "Close your eyes."

Kyle obeyed and Cartman brought the shower head towards them, delicately lifting Kyle's neck back with the lightest touch of his fingertips, then cupping his hand across his forehead for protection. Kyle hummed a little as Cartman rinsed it all away, thumbing at the awkward areas of hair where soap liked to stick.

Kyle didn't usually bother with conditioner. He didn't like to mess with his hair for longer than was needed. But Cartman was insistent and picked up something from Kyle's mother's collection. Something minty, so it was "a little less gay for you" Cartman assured.

The pampering began again and Kyle decided he really liked it. Maybe he'd give salons another go. Or maybe he'd just let Cartman wash him as he liked it so much.

"The bottle says to leave it to set for a minute," Cartman read off the container, not that Kyle was listening. He was daydreaming in his heady bliss. Cartman grinned. "Hmm, let's see, what can we do that takes a minute?" He didn't wait for a suggestion and reached forward to caress Kyle's cock.

 _You asshole_ , were the words in Kyle's mind but they failed to surface as Cartman's fingers focused on the head of his cock – and only the head – knowing that it drove Kyle crazy. The intensity was always a mixed blessing and Cartman had already perfected bringing Kyle off before pleasure became pain. He licked at his now frosted hand, laughing when Kyle hit him feebly.

Cartman rinsed Kyle's hair again and they unanimously decided it was silly to wash just Kyle's hair so a few more minutes had to be dedicated to soap the rest of his body (for some reason at least 40 seconds were devoted to Kyle's ass alone) and then they both agreed that it was Cartman's turn.

The only reason they stopped was because Kyle's mother ran in screaming holding Cartman's laptop.

* * *

"You grounded?"

"Yep."

"She stopped yelling yet?"

"On a break. She'll return in the morning."

Cartman punched his couch cushions and howled with laughter.

Kyle growled into his phone, "You're not even going to apologise, are you fatass?"

Cartman's laughter had finally died down into controllable sniggers. "What for?"

"Putting a camera in my fucking bathroom, you pervert."

Cartman clicked his tongue. "It was just for you. I'm not going to watch the rest of that freak circus you call a family. Anyway, even though your mom threw me out it was totally worth it. I got no regrets."

"She'll get over it. It's just that we're only sixteen and you're… well, you're _you_. For what it's worth," said Kyle, running his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time, "I don't completely hate you right now. I really loved what we did."

"I thought we weren't using that word," Cartman murmured nervously.

"You said it first."

"I did?"

Kyle smiled. "Mm-hmm, you said you love my hair."

"Yeah," Cartman sighed, falling back on the couch arm. "I really fucking do."

"It's really soft right now," Kyle purred, pulling one of his curls in front of his face and letting it spring back.

"Duh, that's what conditioner does. Told you it was worth using."

"Seriously. My mom was shouting at me and all I could do was stroke my hair and pretend I was listening."

"Yeah?" Cartman shifted to his side, palming his dick. "You were stroking your hair?"

"When she left," Kyle whispered into his phone confidentially, "I stroked more than just my hair."

Cartman buried his face into the couch with a whine. "You're torturing me, Kyle."

"You deserve it. But maybe, if you're a good little fatass I'll find some way to thank you for tonight."

He sat up, intrigued. "What were you thinking?"

"Hatless blow job?"

Cartman could have died.


End file.
